


The Legacy

by clgfanfic



Series: Alias Smith and Jones/War of the Worlds [2]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones, War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More stories from Paul about his ancestors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me and the Governor #5 and later in Green Floating Weirdness #22 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

_"Do all shaman know everything?"_

**The Blackwood Project**

**Government Property #348**

**Northern California**

**September 1989**

 

          Lieutenant Colonel Paul Ironhorse sat at his desk, finishing off the last of his weekly reports for General Wilson.  Each sitrep detailed the events encountered by the Blackwood Project as they fought against the invading aliens from the planet Mor'tax, and their responses, both successful and unsuccessful.  With a tired sigh, he signed the bottom of the page and returned the pen to its place in the desk set. A light knock interrupted him before he could reach for the file folder marked: Top Secret.

          "Come in," he called.

          The door cracked open and the edge of a thick book entered the room, followed by Debi McCullough, clutching the opposite end.  Her attention was riveted to the page she held the tome open to.

          Ironhorse grinned.  "Can I help you?" he asked.

          Debi looked up, her bright blue eyes full of the wonder of discovery.  "I was working on my history report and I found this book in the library and–"

          "Whoa, Deb, a little slower, okay?"  The colonel leaned back in his chair and motioned for the thirteen-year-old to take a seat.

          Debi slid into the chair across from the soldier, the book coming to rest on the polished surface of Ironhorse's desk with a bang.  "They have a chapter in here all about the two outlaws you told me about – Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry."

          "Oh?" Ironhorse said, his own curiosity engaging.  He was a history buff himself, particularly if it had anything to do with the history of his people, or his family.  "And what does it say about the two most successful outlaws in the history of the West?"

          "It talks about how they robbed banks and trains, and how they never shot anyone, and about how Hannibal Heyes was the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang – but they decided to get out of the outlaw business – and how they got their amnesty and worked for the Governor of California with a group of men from a place called Wildside, just like you said.  And their friends in Wildside were pretty neat, too.  I might do a report on them next time.  They were the Chamber of Commerce of Wildside.  There's even a picture of them in here.  Sutton Hollister is really cute," she sighed as she was sucked back into the story.

          "I see."  Ironhorse rose and walked around to lean against the front of his desk.  "So, how can I help you?"

          Debi's cheeks colored a soft pink.  "Well, I was hoping you might know something special about Heyes and Curry that I could use for my history report.  I mean, since your great-great-grandfather met them, I thought maybe you knew more about them than you told us in that story the other day.  I want to make this really good, and it's due the day after tomorrow."

          The hopeful expression on the girl's face prompted an answering crooked smile on Ironhorse's.  "Actually, my great-grandfather – the son of my great-great-grandfather Thunder Eagle – met them, too."

          "Really?"  The book was forgotten as Debi started to snuggle into the comfortable chair, ready to hear the tale.

          Ironhorse shook his head.  He was stuck now.  "Let's go to the living room and I'll tell you about it.  It's quite an adventure."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          They were soon ensconced in the living room, Ironhorse in one of the Cottage's wingback chairs near the fireplace, and Debi curled up at one end of the couch.  Paul cleared his throat, then let his voice slip into what he considered his storyteller's cadence.  "Well, it was about two years after Thunder Eagle had traveled to Arizona with Heyes and Curry that his son, Bloodhawk, sought out the two retired outlaws to ask them to help him."

          "Bloodhawk was your grandfather's father?" Debi asked, her eyes sparkling.

          "Yes."

          "Was he a shaman, too?"

          Ironhorse smiled and rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chest.  "Not yet, Debi.  He was still a young man, still learning the ways of our rituals and practices."

          "Was he my age?"

          "A little older, about seventeen."

          "Wow…  Did he go all the way to California to get them to help?"

          Ironhorse nodded.  "It started after Bloodhawk fasted for several days.  He had hiked up to the mountains in order to walk with the spirits and get a vision.  On the last night he was there he had a very vivid dream.  In this dream he saw a creature much like the Cherokee uktena—"

          "What's that?"

          Ironhorse smiled at the girl's bottomless curiosity.  "The uktena is a kind of… mythological creature, I guess you'd say… a monster," he explained, watching the girl's blue eyes grow round.  "It's a giant snake as big around as a tree trunk."

          "Wow.  As big as the redwoods?"

          "Not quite that big, Debi, but very big.  And they have horns on their heads, and between the horns there is a large, beautiful crystal.  Legend says that if a man kills the uktena and takes the crystal, he secures its magic for himself.  He will have success in everything he does, and be able to predict if someone is going to live or die."

          "Was it hard to get the crystal?"

          "Very," Ironhorse said, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.  "The light from the crystal was so bright that it would confuse anyone foolish enough to hunt the uktena.  The hunter would run toward the large snake, drawn by the light, and get eaten."

          "Yuck!"

          "Bloodhawk dreamed that an Old One like those carved on the flat stone his father valued killed a creature much like a uktena, although the Blackfoot have another name for the creature, one that has been lost over the ages. In any case, the being took the monster's gem for himself.  The being then took this stone back to a wagon that flew in the sky and used it to make it fly again… and the sky wagon came back and destroyed his people."

          "You mean the crystal fixed the flying saucer that had crashed in the Petrified Forest?" Debi asked, folding her arms on the end of the couch and leaning her chin on them, her gaze riveted on the colonel.

          "Exactly.  Bloodhawk also knew that the Old One was able to kill the uktena because he used the magic stick that threw out lightning bolts.  And, since a vision about the Old Ones had prompted his father to leave the People and travel all the way across the country, Bloodhawk knew that his own vision must be very important.

"So, when he woke the next morning, he spent the whole day sitting on the top of a mountain, waiting for a vision that would tell him what he should to do about his dream."

          "And?"

          "And he saw himself in a great desert with the two men his father had met on his travels.  They were urging their horses to go as fast as they could, riding for their very lives, while a huge, angry raven flew above them."

          "What did Thunder Hawk say?"

          "When Bloodhawk got home and told his father about the dream and his vision, Thunder Eagle told his son that he had to seek out the two white men who had helped defeat the Old Ones and their lightning sticks.  Together he and Heyes and Curry had to ride back to where they had fought the travelers from the stars and take back the uktena's crystal."

          "But how was Bloodhawk supposed to do that?"

          "My great-great-grandfather wasn't too clear on that point, Debi.  Thunder Eagle thought that once Bloodhawk found Heyes and Curry, and they went back to Arizona, events would work themselves out."

          "It sounds really dangerous," Debi said.

          "It was."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**S & J Ranch**

**Wildside** **, California**

**1887**

 

          Hannibal Heyes leaned on the tall white fence and stared out across the rolling green pasture.  A small smile clung to his lips, refusing to disappear as he let his shoulders sag with relaxation.  After a while he bent down and tugged a long piece of field grass free, tucking it into the corner of his mouth and nibbling on the thick, sweet end.

          A pair of soft nickers caught his attention and Heyes let his gaze roam over the small band of horses grazing beyond the fence.  In just two years he and the Kid had built up a handsome herd of riding stock.  They were strong, powerful horses, and their wide foreheads and dished faces added a touch of class to the animals – thanks to the addition of some Spanish blood – but there was still a touch of wildness to the animals that he hoped was never lost.

          He shook his head, then pushed the black hat off his forehead.  Two years.  It was hard to imagine that they had been free, settled men for that long.  The smile gave way to a silly, lopsided grin that split the ex-outlaw's handsome face.  They'd done it.  They'd outlasted the bounty hunters, the posses and the politicians. They had beaten all the odds.

          The Kid had taken to their new life like a duck to water.  Of course it had helped that they'd had friends to insulate them and provide help while they got their feet under them.  The Lancers, the Barkeleys and the folks who lived in and around Wildside had made him and the Kid feel more than welcome – they had made them part of a large, extended family… a community.

          Heyes arched his back, then planted a booted foot on the bottom rail of the fence.  He chuckled softly, enjoying the fresh air and the sweet song of the morning birds.  He patted his still-trim midsection, drawing in a deep breath, sweetened by the spring grass.

          At least he and the Kid hadn't lost their edge, he thought.  Thanks to the Governor of California employing their talents just often enough to keep the itch out of their feet.  It hadn't been as easy to give up a life on the run as they'd expected. Of course running a gambling hall, speculating in real estate and sitting on the city council had helped keep Heyes' mind occupied and sharp as well.

          The ex-outlaw's musings were cut short by a bellow rolling out of the barn.  Several of the nearby horses spooked, snorting and loping off to resume grazing in quieter spaces.

"Heyes!" the roar sounded again.

          "Out here!"

Turning, Heyes was unprepared for what emerged from the barn.  Jed Curry marched toward him, half-dragging, half-carrying a young Indian man who looked more entertained than upset with the Kid's obvious displeasure.

          "Heyes, we _ain't_ going!" Curry announced, coming to a halt at the fence.

          The boy tugged his flannel shirt back into place as best he could and shot an amused glance over his shoulder.  "Aren't," he corrected.

          The Kid was confused.  "Aren't what?"

          "We aren't going," Heyes said.  "I've told you, ain't ain't right, it's—"

          "Isn't," the boy interjected.

          "Isn't, aren't, ain't!" Curry blustered.  "I'm telling you, there's no way I'm goin' back there!  Not for him, not for no crazy spirits, or crystals, or snakes!  Not even for you, Heyes!"

          It was very clear that the Kid was riled, so Heyes smiled reassuringly at the young man, still half-dangling from Curry's grip, then reached out to free the lad.  "You the cause of all this commotion?" he asked, earning himself a cold glare from his partner.

          The boy merely nodded once.

          "Would you like to explain how you could upset my friend here so—"

          "No!  Absolutely not!" Curry interrupted.  "Heyes, if you hear this you're gonna want to go, and—"

          "Kid," Heyes interrupted, "I'm going to take this young man and we're going to walk down to the creek, and he's going to explain why he's here without you snortin' like an angry bull down the back of his neck."  He waited for the spark in Curry's eyes to dim.  "Then, we'll talk."

          Curry opened his mouth to argue further, but the set to Heyes' expression told him it was useless.  Tossing his hands up in a gesture of defeat, he shook his head and marched back to the barn, muttering as he went.

          Heyes watched until his partner was out of sight, then turned his attention back to their visitor.  "Hannibal Heyes."  He extended his hand and the boy shook it.

          "My people call me Bloodhawk, but at the Christian school they call me John," he said in clear, unaccented English.  "You helped my father, Thunder Eagle, uh, Luke, two years ago."

          Heyes nodded, starting a slow walk toward the creek that bisected the property.  "I can see the family resemblance.  Are you here about what happened down in Arizona?"

          "Yes."

          "I was afraid of that…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Curry sulked as he swayed in the saddle.  Heyes watched, trying not to smile. He knew the Kid didn't want to go back to Arizona, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to go back himself, but there was something about the possibility of seeing more creatures from another planet that whetted his curiosity more than he could explain to the Kid, or to himself.

          Heyes' attention shifted to the young man.  Bloodhawk, or John, was a fine looking youngster, and in a couple of years he would be a handsome man.  He hadn't missed the look in Meg's eyes when they had taken the boy into Wildside to pick up the supplies they would need for the trip at the dry goods store.  Sutton Hollister had been slightly upset – he considered most of the unattached young ladies in town "his girls" – but Meg was just window shopping.

          Brodie, Bannister, Prometheus and Vargus had offered to ride along with them, but Heyes dissuaded them – not that he wouldn't have liked the help of the infamous Chamber of Commerce of Wildside, but if they ran into more of the beings with their strange weapons he didn't want any of them hurt or killed.  He still remembered that day in the desert two years ago…

          And, Heyes reminded himself, he remembered the promise he had made many, many years ago, when he was still the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, to  the Native American man who had saved the Kid's life.[1]  A promise to help other Indians who might ask.  Heyes hadn't expected an opportunity to keep that promise, but it seemed that the Blackfoot people had somehow singled him and the Kid out.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "So Bloodhawk was able to talk Heyes and Curry into going?" Debi asked, stretching out along the couch.

          "Not exactly, Debi," Ironhorse corrected.  "He was able to convince Heyes to go.  I guess Heyes was able to get Kid Curry to come along."

          "Why didn't they take more help with them if they thought there were aliens?"

          "I think Heyes was worried that he might get some of his friends killed," the colonel explained.

          "Did they find the flying saucer?"

          Ironhorse smiled at the teenager.  She was so enthusiastic.  "Not right away. They had to go back to the Hubbell Trading Post twice to restock their supplies before they finally located it, and then it was only after a Navajo man helped point them in the right direction."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Heyes, how long are you plannin' on us stayin' out here?" Curry asked.  "We've got a ranch to run, and I've got a job to do."

          "Marty can take care of the S & J while we're gone."  Heyes took another sip of his coffee, then tilted his head back to study the stars twinkling overhead.

          "Yeah, I know, but…"  Curry trailed off.  "I don't know.  It just don't feel right."

          "Have you really thought about it, Kid?  About there being men out there… living on other Earths?"

          The blond ex-outlaw shook his head.  "Guess not.  To tell you the God's honest truth, Heyes, the idea kinda spooks me."

          "Me, too," Heyes admitted softly.  "But it stirs something inside me, Kid.  It's like the feeling I used to get when we'd walk into a bank we were just about to rob."

          For the first time Curry chuckled softly.  "You're just an adventurer, Heyes."

          The ex-outlaw leader set his coffee cup aside and began to arrange his bedroll.  "Naw, just a dreamer, Kid.  But I can't help wondering what it would be like to ride out there…"  He nodded toward the sky.  "…among the stars.  Who knows, maybe there's a couple of guys on the dodge, trying to stay one jump ahead of the law while they wait for their amnesty out there."

          The Kid grinned.  "And will they get it?"

          "Sure," Heyes said confidently.  "If we did, they will."

          "Glad to hear it, 'cause more than two sets of Smiths' and Jones' are two too many."

          "There are many stories about the beings from beyond the stars," John interrupted.  "They came before my people first walked this land… and a long, long time before yours."

          "Maybe they're all true," Heyes said.  "Who's to say.  I know what I saw in Arizona Territory with your father has made me think a lot about what it means to be a man."

          "Heyes, you make me nervous when you start soundin' like a preacher."

          "We should find the disk tomorrow," Heyes said.  "Let's get some sleep."

          "Tomorrow we will find the crystal, and I will take it back to where it belongs," John said, rolling over and pulling his blanket up around his shoulders.

          "I just hope it's as easy as that," Curry mumbled.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes slipped his foot out of the stirrup and slid off his gelding, landing on weak knees.  This was turning out to be more of a challenge than he'd imagined.  And the Kid was right, they did have a ranch to run… but he'd given his word.

          "Heyes?" Curry said, reaching out to rest his hand lightly on his partner's shoulder.  "You okay?"

          "Yeah, fine."  He flashed Curry a sheepish grin.  "Just tired.  Guess I'm gettin' soft."

          Curry grinned and patted his cousin's arm.  "Told you livin' on the straight and narrow would ruin us."

          "Come on," Heyes replied, shaking his head.  "Let's get the supplies before it's dark."

          John watched the exchange silently.  When they hadn't found the flying wagon in the first week, he had expected Heyes and Curry to head back to California, but something kept Heyes from leaving.  His father had been right, they were honorable men.  He turned and followed the partners into the trading post.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"How did the Navajo man know where the flying saucer was?" Debi asked, swinging around to sit cross-legged at the end of the couch.

          "He was a holy man, a Navajo shaman, and he'd taken on the responsibility of keeping an eye on the wagon-from-the-stars."

          "Did he see the aliens?"

          "Not exactly," Ironhorse explained.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes leaned against the counter while the bill was tallied, watching the Kid while he reclined in a rickety wooden chair.  John stood at Heyes' elbow, looking at the collection of jewelry made by local silversmiths.

          "That'll be three dollars and fifty cents," the owner said.

          Heyes fished the money out of his pocket and paid.

Curry pushed himself to his feet, nearly colliding with an old Indian man who had glided soundlessly into the trading post.  "Excuse me," he said, stepping aside to let the ancient man pass.

          The Navajo nodded and continued over to the boy.  He spoke a moment, but when it was clear that John did not understand, he paused, grunted, then tried again in broken English.

"You look for… sky wagon?"

          John nodded excitedly.  "Yes, Grandfather."

          "I show you."

          The boy headed for the door, but Heyes raised his hand slightly to pause the old man.  "How did you know what we're looking for?" he asked the old man.

          "Coyote told me."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Do all shaman know everything?"

          Ironhorse suppressed a smile.  "No, Debi.  They don't know everything, but they do tend to know what's important…  I mean, they know the right thing at the right time, so I guess they do know everything that's important."

          The teenager grinned.  "I know what you mean," she said, relieving the sudden uncomfortable sensation that had settled over the colonel.

How _did_ they know? he wondered.

"So the old man took them to where the warship was?  Then what happened?"

          "He didn't take them all the way to the craft.  He stopped at the top of a ridge and pointed out the direction."

          "Why'd he do that?"

          "He told them he couldn't go any further because they were entering land used by skinwalkers.  If he went any farther he would be contaminated by their evil."

          "What's a skinwalker?"

          "That's another story, Debi.  But that's what the Navajo call witches.  They use their knowledge and abilities to do harm to other people, or to gain power.  The Navajo believe that these witches can take the shape of animals and can cause corpse sickness by blowing a piece of a dead person's bone into a living person."

          "Does it hurt?"

          "I don't know, but the old man believed he would be cursed, so he refused to go all the way to the warship with Bloodhawk, Heyes, and Curry."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "I've got a real bad feelin' about this, Heyes," the Kid whispered over the constant wind-borne scratch of sand blowing across the rocks they crouched behind.

          "You just _had_ to say that, didn't you?"

          "There are only three," John countered.

          They had located the metal disk, and the three cowboys who appeared to be working on it, less than an hour before.  But now, Heyes was hesitating, uncertain about what to do.

          "John's right," Curry said.  "It's just three cowboys, not them green, frog-lookin' things.  Let's just ride down there and see what they're doin'.  We can't just sit here all day."

          Heyes shook his head.  "Kid, those frog-lookin' things could be in there.  Maybe they paid those men to dig that flying machine thing free."

          "The crystal will be inside," John said softly.  "In my dream it was inside."

          "Why does that just figure?" Curry mumbled.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "So they were pretty scared, huh?" Debi asked.

          "Yes," Ironhorse told the girl, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "They didn't want to risk finding more of the aliens, so they decided to wait until it was dark, then sneak inside the warship."

          "I'd be _more_ scared in the dark," Debi said, her blue eyes growing slightly larger.

          Paul grinned.  "Heyes and Curry were used to working under the cover of darkness.  They thought they could sneak in and see what the situation was, then decide what to do."

          "Did it work?"

          "Sort of…"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes shifted slightly to ease a kink out of his back, startling the Kid. "Just me," he whispered.

          "What time is it?" Curry asked.

          Scanning the darkening sky, John answered, "About seven."

          "And time we headed down," Heyes said, rising stiffly to his feet.

          Leading their horses, they circled around the disk, getting a good look at the camp and the three cowboys, who were preparing to sleep.  Tying the animals to sturdy palo verde growing through a cracked boulder, they eased soundlessly into the camp.

          Curry approached the first cowboy, tapping his Colt on the toe of the man's boot.  The cowboy's eyes opened, focusing on the Kid, who motioned for him to remain silent.  Heyes nudged the second in the ribs with his foot, while John tossed a small rock onto the hat that covered the third man's face.  The two men joined their companion, who was standing next to the fire.

          "Anyone in there?" Heyes asked softly.

          One of the cowboys shook his head.

          "Any _thing_ in there?" Curry prodded.

          "Don't know what you're talking about, friend," one of the men said.  "We just found this thing and—"

          "Shhh," Heyes said with a friendly smile.

          "I'll look inside," John said softly.

          "Not alone," Heyes replied, reaching out to grab the young man's arm.  "Kid, you keep an eye on these three?"

          Curry nodded.  "Be careful."

          "I'm always careful, Kid," was the ex-outlaw's reply.

          John led the way to a door that opened downward from the bottom of the disk.  Silently he climbed the six steps into the flying wagon, Heyes following at his heels.

          The murky dimness made maneuvering in the cramped quarters difficult, but John seemed to know where he was going, and proceeded to the center of a central chamber where a pillar rose from the floor of the machine.  Set into the rounded top of the pillar was a short, but pyramid-shaped crystal that pulsed red, then green, over and over.

          Sliding his knife from its sheath, the young Blackfoot pried the crystal free.

          "Let's go," Heyes whispered, glancing nervously around the shadow-filled room.  He was sure he'd seen movement, but now there was nothing.  Maybe the two-legged, frog-things were in there.  He shivered.

          John nodded, returning the knife to its sheath, then placing the crystal into a pouch he wore on his belt.

          Heyes led them back to the opening, then motioned the boy down the stairs. Movement flashed in the corner of his eye and he tugged the Colt free of his holster.  When nothing more happened, Heyes bolted down the stairs and out into the cool desert night.  "Let's go!"

          The three cowboys looked nervous, but they remained near to the fire as Curry backed away from them, his gun still ready if they tried anything.  "You get it?" he asked.

          "Yes," John said.

          Disappearing around the rock outcropping, they sprinted to where their horses were tied.  Pulling the reins free, they swung into their saddles and kicked their mounts into a gallop, heading into the darkness.

          They stopped several minutes later, unwilling to risk the horses galloping half-blind over the rocky terrain any longer than necessary.

"You think they'll follow us?" Heyes asked his partner.

          Curry shrugged.  "Hard to say.  They acted pretty strange.  Kept palaverin' in some foreign tongue."

          A peculiar humming noise echoed over the jagged desert, causing the horses to shift restlessly, one of them whickering.  Curry's gelding shied as an odd green glow lit the tops of the rocks in the direction of the flying wagon, and the hum increased in pitch and loudness.

          "Heyes?" the Kid questioned.

          "I don't know, and I'm not plannin' on sticking around to find out!"

          "Look!" John interrupted, pointing.

          Emerging out of the darkness were the three cowboys.  The horses they rode pranced and crow-hopped, but were quickly reined in under control.

          "Come on!" Curry said.

Heyes and John urged their horses after the Kid, the three cowboys following.

          Glancing over his shoulder, the Kid saw one of the men drawing his Peacemaker, and countered, drawing and firing on the move.  The shot caught the cowboy in the upper arm, eliciting an unnatural scream before he pitched off the mount and fell into the dust.  Even in the darkness Curry could see the man writhing on the ground.

_What the hell!?_ he thought.  _I just winged him!_

          Another of the cowboys fired at the fleeing threesome, the shot passing dangerously close to John's ear, but the young man leaned over his mare's neck and urged her to hurry over the rough ground.  Heyes and Curry fired back, the Kid twisting in the saddle as a shot seared along the top of his shoulder, burning but not tearing the skin.

          Seeing the Kid wince, Heyes took careful aim and pulled the trigger while he also tried to keep his mount steady.  The second cowboy clutched at his leg, issuing the same unholy scream as his companion.  Slumping over the saddle horn, the attacker spooked his horse, which shied and bucked, unseating the injured man.

The last cowboy, bearing down on John, couldn't jerk his mount out of the way in time and trampled over the fallen man.

          Heyes and Curry split off, each circling back in opposite directions, catching the man between them while he continued after the boy.

"Hold it!" Curry called out.

          The cowboy pulled up the small mustang paint, the indecision clear on his face despite the darkness.  "Give me the crystal," he demanded.

          "It belongs to _my_ people," Bloodhawk countered.

          "We will hunt you down and destroy you," the man snarled.

          "I don't think so," Curry said, his gun trained on the cowboy.

          With what sounded like a half-strangled scream, the man bellowed something in a language neither Heyes or Curry recognized.  He kicked at the horse, the paint lunging forward as the cowboy raised a short metallic rod and pointed it at Heyes, a bolt of green light jumping from the end.

          Curry fired, catching the man in the shoulder and knocking him out of the saddle.  Hauling in on the rein, his gelding slid to a stop and the Kid felt his stomach knot as the cowboy began to melt like a human candle.

"What the hell's goin' on?" he hissed, twisting to find Heyes lying on the ground, surrounded by an eerie green glow.  "Heyes!"

Jumping down from his horse, Curry scrambled over to his fallen partner.  Tentatively, he reached out and gripped the fallen man's shoulder.  "Heyes?"

          The dark-haired man's eyes were open wide, shining with the same odd green color that played over his clothes.  He stared off into an unfocused distance.

          "Give me a hand here," the Kid ordered John, who was already kneeling across from him.

          Together they lifted Heyes and wrestled him onto his nervous horse.  John held the bay's bridle while the Kid swung up behind Heyes, wrapping his arms around his partner to take the reins.

John mounted, and holding the reins of the Kid's horse, following as Curry led them out into the desert.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "So the three cowboys were aliens?"

          Ironhorse nodded.  "When they failed to get the crystal back, their companions, who had been hiding onboard the warship, used the craft to come after them."

          "The ship would fly without the crystal?"

          "Yes."

          Debi leaned forward, caught up in the story.  "What was the crystal for, then?"

          "I don't know, Debi."

          "Was Heyes okay?" she asked, the real concern in her voice sparking a smile from Ironhorse.

          "Yes, he was only stunned."

          "Did the spaceship catch them?"

          "The next morning."

          "Oh no."

          "Oh no is right," the colonel agreed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Fighting back the panic, Curry pulled the blanket up around Heyes' shoulders.

"Damn it, Heyes, snap out of it," he said softly, his fingers curling into the rough wool.  "Don't do this to me now."

          Finding a sheltered location to hole up in was the easiest part of the long night for Kid Curry.  Getting Heyes off the horse and arranging him in what he hoped was a comfortable position was more difficult with the man remaining so stiff and so still.  He'd settled in next to Heyes for a long, cold night, his gaze scanning over his partner almost continually.  Nothing seemed to be wrong, except for the odd glow that continued to cling to him like a fever sheen.  That and his open, haunted eyes.

          "Heyes?  Can you hear me?"

          Still nothing, but at least the glow seemed to be fading.  There had to be something he could do.

          "Please, Heyes."

          The sun would break the horizon soon, Curry knew.  And then they would have to head back to the trading post as fast as they could.  There were no towns, no doctors he could take Heyes to that weren't over three days ride away…  What the devil had that man used on him anyway?

          Curry's ground his teeth.  And what sort of men were they?

He was dead sure he'd seen at least one of them melt.  But that was impossible, wasn't it?  The frog-things they'd seen before had melted…

          John, sitting nearby, studying the recovered crystal, glanced up.  "Look," he said, nodding toward Heyes.

          Curry looked back at his partner.  The green glow had almost faded away, the only trace remaining shone across the man's still unblinking eyes.

"Heyes?"

          The last of the eerie glow disappeared as the sun slipped above the sharp ridges and began its climb into the sky.

"K-Kid?"  He closed his eyes, which felt raw and gritty.

          Curry whooped.  "Heyes!  You okay?"

          Heyes worked his hand free from under the blankets and tentatively rubbed his eyes.  "I think so," he slurred.  "What happened?"

          "I don't know.  That cowboy aimed one of those sticks at you and shot you with green light."

          Heyes looked doubtfully at the blond.

          "It froze you up just like a creek in winter," Curry concluded.  "Do you remember anything?"

          Heyes shook his head.  "I feel like we've been out celebrating a big haul  . . . m' head's fuzzy, m' tongue's thick and m' eyes feel like someone poured a bucketful of sand in 'em."

          Curry gently patted the man's shoulder, then gripped his arm and asked, "Think you can ride?"

          "Yes," was the immediate reply.  "I want to get as far away from here as we can."

          "Amen," Curry concurred.  "I'll get the horses ready.  You rest until then."  He squeezed Heyes' arm again and received a tired smile in reply.

          "I'm okay," he assured his partner.  "Thanks for sitting with me last night."  His attention slipped to John.  "That the crystal?"

          The young man nodded.  "I will take it back to my people.  It will bring us power."

          The clear, pyramid-shaped crystal was larger than Heyes remembered.  He held out his free hand and John set it in the ex-outlaw's palm.  Heyes could feel a faint vibration coming from the stone, causing his fingers to tingle.  The tingle spread, washing over him like a pleasant afterglow and his head began to clear.  By the time he handed it back to the boy, he felt perfectly fine again.

          "I wonder why those creatures wanted it," Heyes questioned out loud.

          "I don't know," John answered.  "Those men last night, they weren't really men, were they."

          Heyes wasn't sure how he should answer that; he wasn't sure he believed the only answer he could give.  But before he could reason it out, the same odd humming from the night before echoed across the desert.

"Kid?" he called.

          Curry arrived at a run, pulling the three horses behind him.  Heyes and John wasted no time mounting.

          "Let's get the hell out of here!" Curry yelled.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Racing across the desert, the three men knew the flying craft would reach them before they could find cover in the sparse landscape, but they urged their horses on.  An odd warbling sound announced the coming of a nearby explosion that rained dust and rocks down on them.  The Kid's gelding squealed and stumbled, but managed to right himself.

          "We have to split up!" Heyes yelled above the hum.

          "Heyes—!"

          "It's the only way!  We'll meet back at the trading post!"

          Another explosion drowned out any argument the Kid might have made.  John's horse screamed, a front hoof catching in a small hole.  Both horse and rider flipped through the air, landing heavily on the hard desert floor.

          Heyes yanked his gelding up, and spun him around, heading back toward the approaching flying disk.  Off to his right, the Kid was doing the same.

"Get out of here, Kid!"

          "Heyes!"

          John staggered to his feet, then sprinted toward the two men.

Bearing down on them, the craft began to emit another high-pitched warble.

          Heyes pulled up and stuck out his hand, helping swing the boy up behind him.  Jerking the gelding's head around, he followed Curry as they streaked across the desert.  The sound of John's singing calmed Heyes, although he wasn't at all sure why – and he fervently hoped it wasn't a death chant.

          A tremendous blast, accompanied by a flash of heat and a deafening roar, nearly unseated all of them.  When they could finally get the horses back under control, the Kid urged them off toward a rocky outcropping.  The stone, polished by the desert sand, reflected the sun, nearly blinding the three men and, hopefully, whoever was aiming at them from the flying machine.  They waited, tensing as the warble built again.

Heyes looked at his partner.  "This is it, isn't it, Kid?"

          "Don't talk like that."

          "It's been something," Heyes said softly, reaching out to clasp Curry's dust-covered shoulder.

          "Yeah," the Kid replied, his voice catching.  "It has at that."

          They heard the beam fire, and a moment later they felt a searing blast of heat.  They raised their arms to cover their faces, expecting to be burned to death. But then the warble changed to a high-pitched metallic scream.

          Lowering his arms, Heyes urged his stunned gelding to move to the edge of the rocks.  "Kid, come here!"

          Curry and John watched with Heyes as the flying craft tilted wildly in the air, rising further above them as it did.

"They're gettin' a better angle!" the Kid yelled above the noise.

          "I don't think so!" Heyes replied.

          "They're going to crash!" John said.

          The threesome watched as the craft tipped dangerously to one side, then plunged toward the ground.  A small hill blocked their view of the final collision, but it was clearly heard across the suddenly quiet desert.

          They rode out from their cover, the area in front of it nothing more than an circle of black on the ground.

"Should we go take a look?" John asked.

          "No!" was Curry's emphatic reply.

          "I think you're right," Heyes concurred.  "Let's get the hell out of here."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Wow," Debi breathed.  "Did it explode?"

          "No one knew.  As far as I know, Heyes and Curry never went back, and neither did Bloodhawk.  They rode back to the trading post, then on to Wildside.  When they got home, Heyes and Curry paid for a ticket and sent Bloodhawk home on the train – the most powerful machine man had developed at that time."

          "And he gave the crystal to his father?"

          "Yes."

          "What happened to it?"

          Ironhorse thought a moment.  "I…  I don't know, Debi.  I suppose one of the tribal elders still has it."

          "Do you think the aliens will go looking for it someday?"

          "I don't know that either," he said softly.  "But it was thanks to Heyes and Curry that we acquired our family name, Ironhorse."

          "Oh?" Debi asked, her body nearly humming with curiosity.

          "When they took Bloodhawk to the train station, Heyes told him how the machine was called an "iron horse", and they wondered if, one day, men on this earth might learn to make their iron horses fly, like the craft they had seen.

          "When Bloodhawk returned home and went back to school, the teacher asked him where he'd been.  'I was riding the iron horse,' he told his teacher, and from that day on, they called him John Ironhorse."

          "Cool."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Marty Riggs smiled at Heyes and Curry while the two men argued over which fields they should cultivate next.  It had been too quiet around the S & J with the partners gone for nearly a month.  With a slap on Curry's back, the foreman wandered off to take care of the chores, leaving the pair to continue their argument.

          Heyes waited patiently while Curry took a deep breath, held it, then blew it out in a sigh.  "We could flip for it," he suggested.

          Curry's eyes narrowed.  "Heyes, I _know_ how that always comes out."

          "It's my superior wisdom, Kid."

          Curry snorted and shook his head.  "Whatever you think, Heyes, it's fine with me."  He planted a foot on the bottom rail of the fence and the pair fell quiet for several minutes.  "Heyes?"

          "Yeah, Kid?"

          "You think they're gone?"

          Heyes knew exactly what his partner was referring to, and wished he had an answer.  "I don't know."

          "Seems mighty strange that men from somewhere out among the stars would come here, don't you think?  I wonder what they want."

          "Don't know that either," Heyes said softly.  "But I wish I thought it was just a friendly little visit."

          "Me, too."  Curry climbed up and sat on the top rail.  "You think one day we'll get out there?" he asked, tilting his head back to stare up at the cloud-dappled sky.

          "More than likely," Heyes said, climbing up to sit next to him.  "Seems to me we're pretty good at solving mysteries, and needing to explore."

          "Think we'll find other men out there?"

          Heyes nodded.  "Yes, I do."  He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on his knees.  "I just hope we go there with friendly intentions when the time comes."

          "Me, too.  And if they beat us to it, I hope they come here to make friends, too, but I have my doubts."

          Heyes nodded sadly.  "I know what you mean, Kid.  And if that's the case, I just hope we've got good men who will fight them until they pack up and go back to wherever they came from."

          Curry nodded.

  


* * *

[1]  A reference to "Members of the Gang," which was published in _Green Floating Weirdness #23_.


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